


Someone to Lean On

by VioletInc



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Depression, Gen, difficult/strained family relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 20:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11066694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletInc/pseuds/VioletInc
Summary: Ed has been having some difficult feelings after recent events, and it reaches a bursting point on his way to the train."“I’m not a kid, Mustang. You’ve never treated me like I couldn’t handle something before, so why now?” Ed looked at him harshly."





	Someone to Lean On

**Author's Note:**

> (I realized after having written this, that Mustang had been transferred to Central Command by the time Winry and Ed and Al had their confrontation with Scar/Ed and Al find out that Hughes has sadly left their world, but for the sake of my sanity, please assume that Mustang had to go back to East City to make some final arrangements. He and Ed just happened to be in the same place at the same time.)

It happened on the walk back to the train station in East City. That was when he snapped.

The day beforehand hadn’t been the most helpful in avoiding it. Awful, gloomy as hell rain, another report to Mustang about how he _still_ hadn’t found a Philosopher’s Stone, more short jokes, another assignment he had no care for… The list went on. He had been thinking about Hughes’ death as well, and that certainly hadn’t done anything to lift his mood. But then it happened.

He had been walking back to the station as usual, en route to meet Al, and a little boy had started crying. He stopped mid-stride to see where it had been coming from, surprised by the suddenness of it, and watched as his mother and father turned around and bent over to see what had happened.

It was hard not to think of his mom on the best of days. Whenever the he saw Al’s body, or whenever his automail ports had started hurting due to the weather, or needed maintenance, his mom was always somewhere in the back of his mind. The guilt was hard to let go of. His anger at his father had mostly been pushed to the side and forgotten, though it did reappear occasionally. Mostly he tried to ignore it and not care, the same as his bastard father. It was the only way he had ever wanted to resemble the man whatsoever.

But the instant Ed saw the family together, something in him broke. His umbrella dropped with the rest of his control. Rage and frustration beyond anything his day alone could have caused him broke free and he ran. He didn’t care where, he just had to do anything to get the hurt out. He had to outrun it, fight off the feelings through adrenaline, somehow. He suddenly felt confined by everything, and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

He was vaguely aware of his surroundings, he felt more than saw the eyes of anyone he passed jump on him, and he shook them off. He did notice, however, when he started to reach the edge of the city. He halted himself when Al entered his thoughts. They were supposed to catch the next train to Resembool, but he had probably missed it by this point. Would Al be looking for him? That was possible. There was the chance that Al would wait for him at the hotel they had been staying at. Another chance that he would try Colonel Mustang. 

For a brief moment, Ed thought about going to check up on him, but talking to anyone was the last thing he felt like doing. He huffed and walked on, shoving his hands into his pockets. Silently, he cursed himself for dropping his umbrella. He just hoped that he wouldn’t rust, however long he ended up being outside. 

After what felt like an hour of wandering aimlessly, Ed found himself at the same clocktower he and Al had been at when Scar had first attacked them. Really him, but Al wasn’t about to let Ed fight alone, of course. He smiled at the thought. 

There was no way he would ever tell him, but there were some fights that Al would never know about that Ed hadn’t ever stopped fighting alone. He moved past the clocktower to the ledge where the stairs started. He walked past the stairs and sat on the brick wall that lined the edge, letting his feet dangle over. 

He looked out over the tops of the buildings in front of him. There was a line of houses and buildings and shops directly past the stairs, but not far after that, you could see the start of the forest, and then after that, further in the distance, the mountains that caused all of the rain in East City. Uncharacteristically, he sighed. 

“That might actually be the first time I’ve heard you sound that way, Fullmetal.” Ed rolled his eyes at the familiar voice. 

“What,” He responded glibly, “let me guess: not  _ short _ ?” 

“You said it, not me.” Ed groaned loudly. 

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

He heard Mustang move behind him and no longer felt the rain pouring on his head. He twisted his head up and saw the umbrella covering him. He scowled. “Your automail will rust if you’re out in the rain for too long, won’t it?” Mustang’s voice didn’t sound sarcastic or condescending, but Ed ignored anyway. He kept his gaze firmly on the scene in front of him as he heard Mustang move to lean against the wall next to him.

“Anyway,” said Mustang, “I just happened to be out taking a leisurely stroll, when I ran across you. So.” He paused, and Ed turned to watch his face as it stared back at him, unsurprised to find his usual deadpan, though there was something different about it here. “What’s up?” 

Ed huffed. “None of your damn business.”

“Actually, as my subordinate, how you’re doing is my business. Disregarding the fact that you’ve been missing for nearly two hours and you’re soaking wet, as your commanding officer, if I believe you to be unwell, it’s my duty to check up on you.” Mustang’s voice was ice cold, and Ed knew it was unlikely he would budge on this. Hell if he wasn’t going to try, anyway. 

Ed couldn’t tell how long they had been sitting there in silence. He was kind of amazed Mustang was going to try and wait him out, but the surprise ended almost as soon as it began. “If you don’t talk to me, Fullmetal--”

Almost blessedly, Mustang was cut off when shouting began to occur below Ed’s feet. Before he could say anything else, Ed pushed himself over the edge and landed on his metal leg first on the stairs below. 

Above him he could hear the Colonel’s protests, but he didn’t stop to allow him to catch up. It looked like there was a fight happening somewhere down the road, but Ed ignored that completely in favor of escaping. He tried to use the steadily growing crowd of people, though, to his advantage and slipped to the other side of the throng. He made his way from there through the alleyways to a restaurant. He stopped underneath the canopy to clap his hands and dry off his clothes with alchemy, and then walked inside. 

“May I help you?” came a polite voice from the other end of the bar in the center of the room. He ignored it for a few moments as he walked closer to the bar and muttered a “no thanks” as he slid into a booth at the very end of the restaurant, hopefully sufficiently hidden, though his expectations were low. 

As it happened, he was not. 

“Fullmetal, I swear if you take off on me again, your ass--” Mustang began his tirade, but he cut himself short. “Hell.” 

Ed couldn’t do it. He was far beyond the point where he knew he could handle this. He felt his head bang on the table and just prayed he would go to sleep before he had to start talking. He wanted to tell Mustang to go the hell away, but he couldn’t find the energy for it. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut and willed the pain throbbing throughout his body to disappear. His head felt like it was growing hotter in temperature by the second. 

“You can’t handle everything by yourself, Ed. At some point, your strength  _ will _ run out, and you’re going to need someone to lean on,” Mustang said. He paused at the end, as if unsure of what to say next. Ed took a shaky breath, his stomach quivering through the entire process, as if one wrong move would flip it inside out. He looked up when Mustang’s silence continued and found his commander’s eyes pinned on him. “What can I do to help?”

“No-nothing… You don’t understand.” He put his head back on the table and hoped silently that the water on the table would get rid of the heat in his forehead.

“Unfortunately for you, Fullmetal, I’m smarter than I may look.” 

Ed still refused to look up, more for the sake of his stomach than any sort of petulance. He felt more than saw Mustang shift as he called the closest waitress over to their booth. 

“Could we please get a small order of fries, a cheeseburger, and a medium water over here?”

“I can’t eat, Mustang.” Ed ground out. His hold on himself around his stomach had tightened. He heard the waitress leave, and assumed he probably had been ignored. Just as well. 

“I’ll bet you didn’t know I was adopted when I was young.” 

This was news to Ed. He stayed silent, as Mustang continued: “My parents died one at a time; I was two when I lost my father, and four when I lost my mother. My “aunt,” Madam Christmas, took me in. I didn’t find out that my mother and father had both been murdered until I was fifteen.”

Mustang paused again, and Ed forced himself up to look at him this time. “I didn’t leave my room for two weeks after I had been told.”

Ed opened his mouth to speak, but Mustang didn’t give him the chance. 

“A few years later, the Ishvalan war happened. My alchemy master’s daughter followed me in.” Mustang’s gaze sharpened on Ed, and he resisted the urge to squirm. “We were ordered to commit genocide, Ed. To even call it a “war” is misleading--it was more like live target practice. It’s because of Hughes that I didn’t commit suicide after that.

“My point here, is that I understand being depressed. I understand how it makes you isolate yourself under the false impression that there is no one who could understand, that you deserve the pain that you feel, that the only way to continue forward is by shouldering it alone. It’s ironic in that the only way to truly carry on is by doing the exact opposite of what it tells you.”

Ed took a shaky breath, his stomach still doing backflips. “I don’t know what you want from me, Mustang.” 

“Talk to me. Trust me. I know that’s easier said than done, but I give you my word that I will do what I can to help you.” 

“Like hell, Mustang. Give me one good reason I should trust you.”

“Ed-”

“No, Mustang. You listen to me. Give me one good reason, one  _ damn  _ good reason, I should trust you? Why should I trust  _ you _ , when my own father wasn’t there for me? Who the hell else should I give this shit to? My own father didn’t care enough to stay for me, what makes me think you won’t decide all of this isn’t too much for you, too? This is  _ barely _ your responsibility. You’re just my commanding officer--all you need to care about is whether or not I’m performing my duties. You’re not my babysitter, and you’re sure as hell not my father!”

All eyes in the restaurant were on him. The only thing he could hear was the music playing overhead. He let his head rest back on the table, and slowly the chatter of the other people talking at their seats returned. He heard the waitress step over and put the food down next to him. The smell alone was enough to make his stomach hate him. 

“I’m not saying I’m your father’s replacement, Ed. What I  _ am _ giving you is my promise of support. However you want to take that is your choice,” Mustang finished. Ed didn’t know how to respond. Silence sat between them for a few minutes before Mustang spoke up again. 

“You probably don’t like the idea of food right now, but you need to at least take a few bites of something. It’ll help more than you think it will.” Ed felt the colonel’s eyes bearing down on him. He wanted to keep arguing. To push this man away with all he had until he was alone again because at least if it happened now, it wouldn’t hurt as much as it would if it happened later, and oh how he was aware it was coming. But he didn’t have the energy for it. He just wanted a quiet place to rest and turn his brain off and  _ not think _ , and if this was the way to do it… Damn. 

He picked his head back off the table and went in for a french fry. When that went down easily enough, he took another one. He got halfway through the pile before he felt like stopping. He slowly took a breath, trying not to throw up. Ed looked at Mustang, who nodded in approval. Ed huffed. He wiped beads of sweat off his forehead with his real arm. 

“It was just a kid and his parents. That’s all it took to set all of,” Ed gestured widely in front of him, “ _ this _ off.” Brows furrowed as he stared in palpable frustration at the table. 

“Were you feeling heavy before that?” Mustang asked. He felt his superior’s eyes dissecting him, but he no longer cared. He simply continued. 

“Hughes’ death, and then almost losing Winry right after to Scar didn’t exactly put me on cloud nine.” He wasn’t sure whether or not to regret that bit of snark. Of course he was still pissed Mustang hadn’t told him directly, but he also knew Mustang and Hughes had been close. A long silence passed again. Uneasiness started to make Ed’s stomach do backflips, and he was going to say something else, but Mustang beat him to it. 

“I guess it’s been a rough week for the both of us. I hope you can understand my motives for responding to you the way I did back at Central Command.” 

“I’m not a kid, Mustang. You’ve never treated me like I couldn’t handle something before, so why now?” Ed looked at him harshly. Part of him felt like he knew what Mustang was going to say, but the more part of him didn’t care about guessing or hunches--he wanted to hear it straight from the other man’s mouth. 

“Because, Ed, you need to focus on you and your brother getting your bodies back. One more thing to grieve over at the moment would only have slowed you down, I thought. I figured it would be best if you just kept going for now.” Mustang’s voice sounded sincere, but it didn’t help the hurt and frustration bubbling inside of him. “Look, we’ve established that I understand how you feel. We haven’t been through exactly the same things, but I know how difficult it is to feel like the people who should’ve been there for you failed you and left you entirely alone. But that isn’t true. It’s never been true.”

“But shouldn’t I be alone? Al’s and my problems are ours alone, Mustang. If people keep getting hurt by trying to help us, then--” 

“No, Ed. Hughes knew what he was doing when he died trying to help you. Don’t let his sacrifice go to waste.”

“Colonel…” Ed’s voice came out a hoarse whisper, his eyes squeezed shut as tight as he could “What do I do?”

“One day at a time, Ed. If you allow yourself to think too far ahead, you’ll become easily overwhelmed; just meet yourself where you’re at every day and go from there.”

Ed nodded slowly, his eyes seeing through Mustang. He just wanted to sleep. Being conscious was far too draining at the moment. 

“Where is Al right now?” He asked, his eyes suddenly focusing again on the man across from him. 

“He’s waiting for you at the hotel, Ed. He called me from the phone in the lobby.” Ed cringed. Al was going to let him have it for being gone for so long without leaving him any word. He stood up and waited for Mustang to follow suit. As they reached the exit, Ed extended his hand towards the door, but paused when he reached the handle. He twisted his neck to look at Mustang one more time. He saw Mustang open his mouth to say something, but Ed beat him to it. 

“Thank you,” he said, before he ran out into the street towards the hotel. 

He didn’t hear the small ‘you’re welcome’ from Mustang over the loud pounding of the rain, but he didn’t need to. He still felt like absolute crap, but he let himself smile just a little bit. Maybe… Maybe he did have people he could let himself trust.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to help myself get through some difficult times of my own, but I realized as I was writing this how much I ~miss~ these characters and this fandom as in general. I love this series so much. It's been a while since I've worked with fanfiction, though, for this fandom and others, so I apologize if it's somewhat choppy. If anyone wants to become my beta reader and help me through this stuff in future works... Let me know ;)
> 
> (Side note... this is possibly the longest -finished- piece of fiction I've ever written! *small celebration for me*)
> 
> Ed and I are kindred spirits. We are both of us angry people.
> 
> Don't call us little!


End file.
